Around the Corner
by GraveDigger Resurrection
Summary: The hat gave a dry rustling sound like crumbling parchment. Neville was somehow certain it was laughing. ‘I don’t make mistakes, Neville Longbottom, I assure you. I’m the Sorting Hat.’


**Title: **Around the Corner  
**Rating: **K+  
**Genres: **General, maybe some angst  
**A/N: **This is drivel set in SS/PS. Was aiming for poignant but, as usual, fell horridly short. Sorry.  
**Summary: **The hat gave a dry rustling sound like crumbling parchment. Neville was somehow certain it was laughing. 'I don't make mistakes, Neville Longbottom, I assure you. I'm the Sorting Hat.'

_**"Courage can't see around corners, but goes around them anyway." -Mignon McLaughlin**_

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"Longbottom, Neville."

As Neville stumbled forward, his outside trembling almost as hard as his insides, he could only think that he didn't belong here and he'd never been so afraid in all his life. Looking up, he met Professor McGonagall's severe gaze, and his knees nearly buckled. He thought he might pass out, he really did, as he trudged towards the stool set out in the middle of the enormous hall. But, fortunately or unfortunately-- he didn't really know,-- he didn't, and somehow, he made it to the stool in one piece. Sitting down on the cold surface, shivering with fear, he caught only the briefest glimpse of a sea of eager, _waiting_ faces, before the musty, bedraggled hat was dropped over his mousy hair, the brim slipping down clean over his eyes.

'Ah, Neville Longbottom,' Said a thin, reedy voice. Neville could only assume it was the hat. 'It's been a long, long while since I've had a Longbottom under my brim.'

_Oh God, oh God, I've got no idea what __**I'm**__ doing here __**now,**_Neville thought dizzily, feeling hot and cold all at once.

' No idea, eh? Well, that's alright. It's why you're here, after all.'

Neville thought he might fall off the stool in shock. _You-- you can hear me?_

'Hear you? _Oh hoh_! I've no need to _hear _you. I can _see_ you. All of you, it's all right in here.'

Neville got the peculiar feeling the hat was pointing to his head, which was ridiculous since it had no arms.

'Please don't be so literal,'The hat said, sighing, and Neville cringed.

_Sorry._

'Right then, let's get down to business then, shall we? Hmmm…' Neville waited, feeling shaky and very much alone. 'Ahh. Yes, well….Hmm…"'

What if he didn't belong in a house? Oh God, what if the hat just…just sent him _home_? How could he ever face Gran again? Or Uncle Algie, who'd tried for so long to prove Neville was even actually a wizard? Oh, he couldn't do it, couldn't do it…

'The uncle who dropped you out a window, eh? Yes well, you're very loyal, of course, in spades, it's all laid out very clearly…Cleverer than you realize, too, but that's not your strength.'

_Haven't got a strength at all_, Neville thought to the hat miserablyMaybe home would be the best thing. After all, he'd never fit in here, not _really_. Then he imagined the look on his Gran's face if he was sent home. Dread made a sick swooping feeling in his stomach,

'Hmm,' Answered the hat, which really wasn't an answer at all. 'Not a single little bit of cunning in you, not an ounce! Rare, ho, _yes_! Very rare indeed, but not so very surprising. You're type never needs cunning in the end…'

_I haven't got a type, _Neville thought, feeling panickySoon enough the hat would figure that out for himself, and send Neville home. He just _knew _it. _Not unless 'useless' is a type. _

'Don't be so maudlin,' The hat told him chidingly. He was silent for another moment, before saying, 'Well, well, there really is no question here in the end…'

He'd been counted out of Slytherin and Ravenclaw. Gryffindor was preposterous, and that left him with Hufflepuff or the train home. Neville felt the panic rise in his throat, up, up, clogging his senses until he was _drowning_. _I'd be perfectly happy with Hufflepuff, _He told the hat hurriedly. His Gran would just be happy he'd made it into a house at all. At least for a little while. Until she remembered to be disappointed. _I know I'm terribly dull, and slow, and weak, and forgetful, and maybe Hufflepuff doesn't want people like that, but-- but I am loyal! And honest!_

'To a fault,' the hat told him dryly. 'And yes, I'll agree, you'd be perfectly happy in Hufflepuff. But you wouldn't _grow_. And that simply won't do at all. Your sort of courage has to be nourished after all, and the only place for that is Gryffindor.'

Neville felt his jaw drop, and his head spin. _Gryffindor? _Gryffindor for _him,_ Neville Longbottom? The boy with no memory, who tripped over things, and barely had enough magic to get sparks out of the end of his wand? Neville, who was afraid of the dark, and of bugs, and of bullies, and heights, and flying, and swimming and…What was the hat _playing_ at?

'Nothing, thank you.'

_It- it's just…I don't think…look, you've made a mistake, _Neville answered anxiously, feeling terribly wrong-footed. If it wasn't a mistake, it was a joke, and Neville just didn't think the hat was the type to kid around.

The hat gave a dry rustling sound like crumbling parchment. Neville was somehow certain it was laughing. 'I don't make mistakes, Neville Longbottom, I assure you. I'm the Sorting Hat.'

_But-- but I'm not brave! _Neville cried silently to the hat, and he really felt like crying_. I'm not courageous, or bold, or, or anything! I'm just… __**Neville! **__I'm almost a squib! _

'Yet here you are and to Gryffindor you'll go,' the hat responded politely, and Neville floundered.

He _had_ to talk the hat out of this utter madness. He wasn't brave! He wasn't daring. He wasn't a Gryffindor. He wasn't his parents.

'And who ever said you had to be?'

Neville gave it one last, desperate attempt. _But I'm afraid of __**everything!**_

'I know,' the hat said simply, and Neville really didn't know what to say to that. 'And that's why you'll go to Gryffindor. After all, Neville Longbottom, bravery is a terribly common thing, isn't it? All brash actions and bold words. But to hold the purest form of courage? To have the courage to be afraid? That, my boy, is a rare and splendid thing."

_You're off your rocker, _Neville told him shortly, miserable and confused. _Off your bleeding rocker, thanks, so if you'd just quit this stupid game, whatever it is, I'd like to know one way or the other whether I'm going to Hufflepuff or I'm going home! _He was met only with that dry, rustling laugh again, and then, out loud:

'**GRYFFINDOR!'**

And suddenly the hat was pulled from his head, and he was blinking miserably in the bright light of the Great Hall, his fellow _Gryffindors_ cheering for him enthusiastically. And Neville Longbottom, more certain than ever that this was a dreadful, dreadful mistake, got off his stool to join them, terribly afraid.

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_Hooray for drivel!_ ::laughs weakly:: _If you've got the time, review, would you? You've no idea how much I'd appreciate it. Thanks!_


End file.
